


Hungry Like the Wolf

by dgdreamer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Loki like to play, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Shapeshifting, Tags May Change, loki is the god of mischief
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgdreamer/pseuds/dgdreamer
Summary: Loki finds a woman whose magic rivals his own and wants to know who she is. Will she be able to resist Loki Silvertongue and how far will he need to chase her to discover her secrets?The first two chapters take place well before any Midgardians did anything except worship Thor as a god...we'll see what happens to our pair as they meet some characters we know and love several hundred years later. Tags and ships will change as the story progresses. Please comment... feedback feeds the muse.Chapter 1 - OC POVChapter 2 - Loki's POV





	1. The Chase

The icy air burned in her lungs, not a painful feeling but one that pushed her to run faster, testing her limits as she drew more of it into her nose and mouth. The rush of the wind as she ran sang to her to increase her speed and drive her strength and endurance as far as possible. She slowed her pace only so she could appreciate the beauty of the day and her surroundings covered in a fresh blanket of pure white snow glistening in the late-day sun. The branches of the trees drooped with its weight, seeming to kiss the ground from where they gained their nourishment. In this hour and in this place, all was silent with the exception of a few winter birds who were returning to their nesting places preparing for the night. The solitude was welcome, and the only way she could enjoy her present form. Wolves tended to frighten people when they crossed their paths.

Her paws struck the snow softly but firmly, pushing her onward to no destination in particular. She would need to turn back soon and return to her true form, since she was beginning to tire from the combined use of her magic and the physical exercise. She needed this, though, it helped to clear her head and focus on keeping her secrets while among people. Her family didn’t understand why she so often chose this form, but to her the wolf was not something to be feared. They were beautiful creatures, sleek, powerful, and alluring in its own way.  “Beautiful, but dangerous,” she thought to herself wryly, “that’s what the village men whisper about me when they think I can’t hear. I am someone they desire, yet fear because they don’t understand me.”

She had always possessed the ability to wield magic, but only in the past few years had she learned to control it, make it do her bidding. That was about the same time that the young men had begun to approach her with intentions both honorable and dishonorable. They sought her as a possession, something that should be tamed and held captive as a rare beast.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound and then a trace of a scent that reached her sensitive nose. “Danger!” it seemed to scream in her mind, her already enhanced senses immediately on the alert. The sound was another set of running feet, not Asgardian, nor any creature on two legs. No, this was another beast on four legs… “Wolf!” her keen nose told her quickly, but the scent was strange in some way. It carried the distinctive scent of canine, but it mingled with another scent and a vague vibration seemed to hang in the air. The energy touched her gently and she recognized it for what it was, magic. This was a danger she knew she must avoid. Her ears searched for the direction of the sound while she pulled her magic back to remain imperceptible to the other being.

There, through the trees to her right, she saw the flash of a sable coat. He was beautiful, instinct immediately told her this creature was male, and her first reaction was to pause and admire the way his body moved through the snow, muscles rippling effortlessly under his lustrous coat. “Beautiful, but dangerous,” she reminded herself as she searched the landscape for a place of refuge where she could hide until he was gone.

Too late, she had been spotted. She saw his eyes brighten with awareness of her presence and then flash with question as his magic reached out and gently brushed hers. He began to move toward her, a slow lope at first that transitioned into a faster trot that seemed to gain speed as he approached. Suddenly, her body reached to what her mind had been screaming at her since she first saw him… RUN!

Her body spun quickly and she quickly spotted a copse of trees that surrounded a dense thicket underneath. She headed straight for it as fast as her already tired limbs could carry her. Her rational mind couldn’t tell her why she needed to escape, he had made no threat, only expressed curiosity. Her intuition, however, told her that this creature was more dangerous than anything she had ever encountered.

She could hear him closing the distance separating them but dared not look back for fear of losing her own momentum. She was almost there. In the shelter of the thicket, she could hide and gather her energy to shift forms and make good her escape. As the trees came into better view, she realized her misjudgment. The undergrowth was far too dense for her to penetrate in this form without causing injuries she would have trouble explaining later, not to mention the possibility of having her dense coat become tangled in the brambles. She had no choice, she would be forced to shift back to her Asgardian form quickly and prepare to defend herself until she could think of something else. She could possibly shift to yet another of her favorite forms, but it would take a few moments for her to center herself in her true form before she would be able to manage that. It seemed the best solution.

She reached the cover of the trees and darted behind the largest of them that might shield her form behind it’s trunk and drooping branches, pulling in her magic to bend and stretch her body back into its true shape. She stood tall and strong now, two feet planted firmly on the ground and red gold hair streaming loosely down her back. She pulled her short sword from its scabbard with a barely audible whisper. She always came armed on her little adventures, you just didn’t know what might happen, but she had not needed it before now. It felt strange to be in this body in this place. She had never ventured this far away from other people other than in her two chosen animal forms. She took a deep breath, calmed her mind, and cautiously stepped from her hiding place.

The wolf was walking now, slowly, as if measuring the distance for an attack or taking account of what might have awaited him in the shadows of the copse. He seemed to hesitate, the grey green eyes taking on a gleam of unmistakable intelligence. Then, she felt it again, the brush of magic on her skin. It touched her gently, surrounded her, tested her and then, as slowly as it approached it pulled back. Her eyes remained locked with those of the being before her.  She could not look away, dared not look away. This was no ordinary wolf, she knew that now, but just what she was facing she did not know. The creature seemed to recognize something in her as well, and slowly, the lips of the wolf curled in an almost predatory smirk. As she watched, the wolf began to shift its position. She raised her sword, preparing for her defense, feet set and shoulders squared but stopped in surprise as the wolf disappeared in a vaguely green mist leaving an Asgardian man in its place. “As beautiful in this form as in the previous one,” the thought sprang to her mind immediately, “but definitely more dangerous.” His half-smile remained. One that seemed to know and communicate an understanding of what she was and the power she possessed. The curl of his lips also spoke of another understanding. She had seen it on the mouths of a few men who had taken too much ale and felt brave enough to try to tame her with soft words and gentle touches. Unlike them, however, his mouth made her heart beat faster in anticipation, not irritation.

She noticed then that he had begun to approach her, not in long strides, but with a steady determined pace that said he was accustomed to having people wait for his words with patience. He was a man to be obeyed without question, a man of authority. His black armor was well-made, trimmed in green and gold and shining with a luster of the quickly approaching sunset. It fit him well, defining his trim frame. His black hair was combed back neatly from his face, brushing his neck and shoulders at the sides and back. The severity of the style emphasized the sharp angles of his features, giving him a handsome but somewhat harsh countenance. No, this was not a man to be intimidated or trifled with.

All of these observations had come in a flash, before he had taken more than a few steps, closing the distance between them by half. She raised her sword again, finally finding her voice.

  
“If you walk away now, you won’t be hurt. This is the only warning you will receive.” She tried to make her voice steady and firm in spite of the heavy beat of her heart and the breath that was coming short in her lungs.

His mouth twitched at her words, but his stride never faltered. “You thing to threaten me, little one? I don’t believe you’re aware of  the extent of the danger you’re in,” raising an elegant eyebrow for emphasis.

“You approached me sir, not I you. I only ask to be left to be finish my afternoon in peace.” She was glad her tone was calm and steady, regardless of the turmoil that was happening inside. As he continued his progress, she realized that she would not know peace or reason with this man. He wanted something and he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he got it, and that something at this moment was her.

He took another step, speaking softly, “I merely want to know you, little one. You are a mystery to me. How could someone possessing your power have managed to remain in such seclusion and yet stay alive while learning to harness all that talent. The villages in this area aren’t generally accepting of individuals who possess our types of abilities and powers. You should either be dead, or in the keeping of one who can train you properly.”

“I choose to remain with my family, sir, and the people of the village have no choice but to accept me. They tried, many times in fact, to rid themselves of my presence, but each attempt has failed. It seems my magic sometimes has a will of its own that preserves my existence.”

She didn’t know why she had told him that. It was the truth, but not one that was particularly pleasant to her. To know that people did not want you, but merely tolerated you because they had no choice was humiliating and it made her angry. Anger was not an emotion she could indulge in. Bad things happened when she lost control of her temper, things that could never be undone.

His expression changed as he took another step closer. If anything, it became almost teasing and unmistakably suggestive of his thoughts and intentions. He looked her up and down, slowly raking her body with his eyes before returning to her face and holding her gaze.

“And what else does your magic protect you from, little one? From the advances of men who would attempt to possess that lovely body and the power it can wield?”

He was close now… too close… and she raised her free hand to strike him for his impertinence. He reacted quickly and caught her wrist in his firm grasp.

“Ah, ah, ah, little one. Do not strike me. I would hate to see you wasting away in Odin’s dungeons for treason. It would be such a waste,” he drawled warningly as he raked her with his eyes again.

“Treason?! When did it become a treasonous act to strike a man for making unwanted advances against a woman?” Her words seemed too breathless to her, colored by confusion, fear, excitement, and a smaller measure of indignation that should be warranted.

“For a normal man, it would not be so, but to strike a member of the royal family… that is a different matter entirely. Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself, I am Loki… Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard.” His words carried the hint of the smile his mouth wore as he emphasized his title.

Her eyes grew wide, not so much in fear as in recognition. She had seen the royal princes once before, years ago as they passed through the village, but it had been a long time. She had felt an attraction to him on that occasion, as well. While the other girls had swooned at the golden good looks of Prince Thor, she had found her eyes drawn to the brooding darkness that was this man before her now. She was wary of him, however, as he seemed to carry an aura of danger about him.

“Manners, sweeting, you have the pleasure of my name, now I must insist on knowing yours.” He was leaning close, looking into her eyes, his hands coming to rest on the tree behind her near her head as he released her hand. “Come now, you do have a name, don’t you?” he grinned, closing the distance between them until they were almost touching from chest to toe.

He seemed to enjoy her discomposure. Her breath came short as she looked up at him, his eyes now hooded and hinting at seduction. His breath moved warm on her cheek… his mouth lowering… and she reacted….


	2. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's POV

Loki stood looking down at her. He had no idea who she was but she attracted him, pulled him to her a surely as a moth to a flame and the fact rankled at bit. He knew all the women at court. They were beautiful and cultured, some of them even tried to charm their way into his bed though few of them succeeded. He liked female company, but he always knew when they were just using him because of his connection to the throne. One of the less pleasant aspects of being the god of lies… he always knew if his partner was sincere. He returned his attention to the girl. He had never seen her before, but it didn’t matter. Just a few sweet words from him silver tongue, and she would be gentled and then he would know all. He already knew she had spirit and courage, traits he admired… and she was beautiful, not in the conventional ways of the women of court, but there was a fire from within that made her ordinary features less so. Her hair, he decided, was a gift from the universe. It was golden, but with hues that ranged from russet to pale. It shimmered when she moved, catching the light of the fading sun and reflecting it back with sparks of red that tantalized the eye. It was this feature that drew his attention in her wolf form. Not that he would have ever considered mating with a true wolf or any animal for that matter, no matter what those ridiculous Midgardians wrote about him in their legends. He did, however, love beautiful things and he had admired the way her pelt had shone in the sun.

When she ran from him, he should have just let her go, but his natural habit of finding and making mischief just wouldn’t let that happen. He would chase her and toy with her a bit just to see what happened. She might provide some entertainment for a time. He had sensed her power when he first caught her eye. It was controlled, but she was not able to mask it from him. As he drew closer, he realized that she possessed far more power than he first suspected, probably more that she was even aware of. She might even rival him if she were trained properly. He could tell by the stutters and surges of her power that she hadn’t had much, if any, training. That she could do the things he had already witnessed without advanced training was a testament to her innate talent, but she could be dangerous without the control necessary to use her magic properly.

When she disappeared into the shadows of the trees, Loki feared he had lost her completely. He didn’t know why it mattered so much, he was only having a bit of fun, but he was almost desperate to know more about her. Perhaps he was only acting like the spoiled prince that he was, upset because someone had dangled a shiny new object in his face only to snatch it away before he had the chance to play with it. He slowed his approach then, catching just a hint of movement and feeling a brush of energy as she pulled power into herself. She was shifting forms, he could feel it, sense it as if he had the knowledge of seeing her do so with his own eyes. He had never felt this kind of shift when working with others. The fact puzzled him, excited him, made him want to know more and solve this strange riddle.

She stepped from behind the tree then, sword held at the ready, confident in her ability to defend herself against his attack. Of course, she thought him a wolf…Only one, without his pack to make her own defense more difficult if not impossible. She thought to best him and make good her escape. “Think again, little one,” he smirked to himself, “you are far too lovely for me to ignore and far too powerful to leave at the mercy of yourself and others. Mother should know of you. You should be taken to her in the palace and be trained by her… with me!” His mind had already decided before his thoughts were fully formed. Yes, she should be taught and he would enjoy working with someone like him who used wit and cunning in addition to brute force to overcome enemies. “And, if she should just happen to warm my bed on occasion… well, that would be a welcome benefit.”  His mind conjured images as he stalked her, mixed visions of training sessions followed by more intimate activities amid furs and silken sheets. As he approached, she raised her sword preparing for his attack, and Loki made a decision.

In mid-stride his shifted into his Asgardian form before her eyes, watching then widen in shock and then in admiration. “This is going to be fun,” he thought, “I just need to get her to drop that damn sword and agreed to return to the palace with me.”  _Talk to her_ , a voice whispered in his mind, _there’s a reason you are called Silvertongue_.

Before he could begin, though, she raised her sword and issued a warning. “Interesting,” he thought, “let’s see how far she is willing to take this game.” He kept his tone level as he replied to her threat, but made sure to school his features to show that he was not angry but he was serious. She matched him warning for warning… now he was impressed… not many had the courage to speak to him so directly. His question regarding her abilities surprised him, and her apparently, and her answer was more astonishing. Her magic protected her? What kind of power was this? He must remember to ask mother later, she would know or be able to find the answer for him. It was then that his thoughts took a much different turn. How far did this protection extend? It may protect her from physical harm or death at the hands of ordinary people, but he was far from ordinary. He wanted to test the extent of her defenses against a far more intimate kind of danger. He moved closer, adopting the seductive smirk and languorous stride that always lured the women of the court to him. Women were fools for a man who were bent on seduction.

His next question regarding the extent of her protection caused her eyes to widen at first then narrow. He was within arm’s reach now, and he knew he was about to be struck. He could see it in her eyes. He was not concerned about the possible pain her slap might bring, but catching her wrist before she could land the blow would bring him nearer to her still. His warning and the mention of the word “treason” brought her eyes to his with a sparkle of fear and doubt. All of her emotions were evident in them, their soft blue depths a mirror to her tumbled thoughts and feelings. The mention of his name elicited quite another response, recognition and fear. Oh, so she now recognized him, or at least his name… of course she did! Who in Asgard did not know of the royal family, if not by sight, then at least by name and reputation.

He decided at that moment to release her arm and move even closer, taking advantage of her momentary discomposure to place his hands on the trunk of the tree at her back almost at the level of her head effectively trapping her.  He was going to at least have a taste of this sweet morsel before he brought her back to the palace. At least he would have a start on seducing her before she met Thor, the golden darling who managed to draw most women to him like a magnet. If he started down the path, perhaps she would have eyes for none but him. He moved closer, watching her eyes and then drifting his gaze to her mouth… Yes, she was reacting to his nearness, breathing more rapidly… he lowered his head…

… and in the next instant she was gone, replaced by a flutter of wings that rose up into the snow laden branches of the tree sending great plops of it directly onto his head and down his collar. “DAMN!” he cursed aloud. She was gone, and all she had left him with was desire, a memory of her eyes, and a very cold shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought those of us who love the God of Mischief could use some textual comfort food right now. Don't worry... in my universe, all is well... Loki is still himself, the Avengers are living in the Tower together and love each other like one big dysfunctional family. I refuse to acknowledge most of AOU and CW... NOPE... didn't happen...


End file.
